Of Blood, Dragons, and Romance
by Hakkari
Summary: Karoa is Dragonborn, but she could care less about it. Deciding to spend her time with the Dark Brotherhood rather than save the world, the Argonian runs into annoying dragons and an even deadlier enemy; romance. F!Dragonborn x Scouts-Many-Marshes. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

She felt bad for the Argonians of Winterhelm, honestly, shoved up in their little building and forced to sleep in close quarters. It was even more of a shame that whoever had designed the building had neglected to put on a half-way decent lock.

The Argonian was silent, yellow eyes taking in their surroundings without so much as a blink. She checked her paper again and swore underneath her breath. She had to admit, she hated the Night Mother for sending her here, sending her to kill one of the pathetic Argonians in their pathetic little hut. A few of them were curled up together for warmth, and she felt a pang of pity for the little horned female dressed only in rags. Still, at least she wasn't going to die tonight, like one of the others.

"Who's there?" Ah, so one of them wasn't as deaf as she had thought. Male, by the sound of it, with a deep and gravelly voice. She eyed him from her hiding spot in the shadows, admiring the muscle and definition of his scales. Oh, he was a fine one! A pity that he almost perfectly matched her description of the man she was supposed to kill. Oh well.

"I am Karoa of Black Marsh. And who, might I ask, are you? So rude of the owner to not introduce himself to his guests, no?" He turned towards the sound of her voice, and she absently waved her hand, making her presence known. "Shall we step outside? This place is just so… _crowded_." Again she waved, this time towards the sleeping Argonians still snuggled together. After hesitating a moment, he nodded, opening to door and motioning for her to go first. She smirked. Smart man, then.

As he closed the door behind himself, Karoa fingered her blades. The smart thing to do would be to kill him now, loot his body, and run. Get back to her horse and ride like the wind back to Dawnstar. Still, though, something about her follow Argonian intrigued her, and perhaps he wasn't her target. All she knew was that he was in Windhelm, nothing else. And there she went, trying to find a way to save her target. She hadn't felt this bad since killing the bride in Solitude on her wedding day.

"So, what did you do to piss a guy off, hm?" He looked surprised, then regained his neutral look. She smirked, then fingered her blade again. "I'm just curious; you don't have to tell me. The outcome will be the same, anyway."

"What in Oblivion are you _doing_? Why were you in our home, threatening us? Don't you know that our kind gets enough trouble as it is? You, Karoa of Black Marsh, bounding about in skintight leather _killing_ people doesn't help us!" She was amused by his observations, but even more amused by the fact that he acted as if he knew what he was dealing with.

He seemed to pick up on her feelings, as he hissed, shoving her against the building and out of curious guard's view. Shoving his face to hers, his voice took on a tone that Karoa had to admit – sadly and regretfully – was threatening. "We all know about Nilsine, Marsh-_friend_. You fit the description that dearest Shahvee provided me with. Red war paint and markings, brown-red scales… A tendency to finger her blades before attacking."

Karoa shoved him away with a hiss, slipping out from the wall in case he decided to strike. "She saw all that, eh? I must've been careless. Not this time, though. _This_ time, I do things right." She slipped into the shadows, disappearing from view. The nearly blinding snowstorm didn't help matters, and she stifled a laugh as he drew his sword and began to twist and turn in pursuit of the assassin.

There were too many guards around to properly kill the Argonian – what a shame she hadn't learned his name, really – without being caught, so she decided to drag him out onto the ice. "Oh, aren't you brave? Bravery doesn't get you far with the Dark Brotherhood, however. Want to kill me before I kill one of your friends? Fine. Come and get me, hero." She purposefully flicked her tail, hitting him in the leg before taking off at a sprint, ducking and weaving between guards as he stumbled behind her. As she leaped off the dock onto the ice she skidded, while he was perfectly balanced.

Perhaps working at a dock did do a body good.

"It's time to end this, Karoa of Black Marsh." She raised her daggers as he raised his sword. Karoa had decided to make this interesting for him, a fellow Argonian deserved a dramatic, newsworthy death. As they began to clash, she heard an unmistakable roar, a flapping of wings. Her heart began to beat. _No, not now! _

The sound had distracted him, and it was the perfect time to strike. She was paralyzed, however, searching the blanketed sky for the dragon.

Neither of them saw it coming, crashing upon the ice with a mighty shout. It roared angrily at her, scales prickling as her scent became familiar to him. "_Dovahkiin…_" With another shout he blasted ice at her, narrowly missing as she shoved her target out of the way. "_Fo!_"

"Stay back. The contract says that I must kill you with blade only, no other wound." She stared at the massive dragon before her, moving closer and shouting his deadly words. "And I'm pretty sure that 'death by dragon' counts as another means of death." He was terrified, but nodded, not quite understanding her words.

"_Yol!_" Fire erupted in front of her and the dragon screeched, shuffling back. The ice was beginning to crack under the heat and its weight. As part of it went out from under his wing, he took to the air, retreating as the dock guards finally took notice and began to pelt him with arrows. The icy water caught on his wing began to freeze, slowing him and causing him to fly limp, allowing Karoa time to draw her orcish bow and shoot him.

Too slow to escape, it turned back, clumsily landing on one of the buildings and knocking out part of the roof. With a roar he struck out with his wing and shouted, freezing a guard in place and knocking out another. Karoa cursed. This one was determined to have his way.

As if to make matters worse, her target was charging headfirst at the dragon, slicing pathetically at its head with his sword. The dragon screamed before easily knocking him away, snorting knowingly as he went sailing back onto the ice. More of it cracked around them, but Karoa was too busy shooting at the creature to notice. She managed to shoot it in the eye, and it screeched in terror at his sudden blindness, roaring and collapsing off of the building, taking half the wall with it. As both the guards and Argonian shot it, it collapsed into the water, unable to emerge with its injured wings.

"Karoa!" As the dragon soul erupted from his body into hers, the ice gave way, unable to take the strain of the waves caused by the dragon's collapse. She screamed, falling into the water, feeling herself freeze instantly. The warmth of the soul was enough to keep her fighting against imminent death, but it wasn't enough to actually save her.

"_Fus Ro Dah!_" The ice erupted around her as she shouted, trying to escape the water. But even that had been too much for her, and she felt herself falling. Her poor horse. Her poor crippled Brotherhood. She had failed them all. With one last desperate grope at the surface, she only saw blackness.

**S K Y R I M**

"Oh, she is waking up! Good, good! Shahvee's soup is better than she thought!"

"Thank you, Shahvee. If you could go back outside for just a moment, please…?" That voice was familiar to her, though she wasn't exactly sure why…

"Ahh, my friend Scouts-Many-Marshes finally has a lady-Marsh-friend. Shahvee will leave now, not get in the way." The door creaked, then slammed. She finally snapped her eyes open, panting wildly.

"What…?"

"Well, good morning to you, too. So, you gonna kill me even after I saved your life?"

Karoa frowned, pulling the picture of her target out. They were similar… but not the same. She shrugged. "I guess not, Scouts-Many-Marshes, and I ask your forgiveness for mistaking you for another."

He stared at her, brow raised. "You really expect me to forgive you trying to _kill_ me?"

She grinned. "No, I suppose not. Well, I'll be on my way, then. Good fortune to you, Marsh-friend." She leaped out of the cot and slipped out of the door without it making a sound.

A day later, an Argonian beggar that wandered the streets of Windhelm had been found dead by the graveyard. There were apparently no witnesses to the event, and a day after the body had been moved everyone ceased to care.

**A/N: I've been playing Skyrim recently and decided to write a fic. It's not anything special, I'm sure, but I figured that Argonians just don't get enough love 3 Huzzah for lizard-folk! **

**Anyway, this'll probably be multichapter but updated randomly as I get inspired xD; **

**Reviews are loved as always, for the glory of Sithis :3**


	2. Chapter 2

She slammed her fist against her desk, shaking the mirror in front of her. It was her sixth straight hour without sleep, and the moans and groans of the prisoners in the torture chamber nearby weren't helping her. Her thoughts kept flashing back to that damned Argonian. The sincere look in his eyes had made her heart melt, and two days later, she had the same thoughts still.

"What's _wrong_ with me? I'm not going crazy, am I?" Karoa hated this, the fact that she couldn't sleep, the tortured prisoners' wails were starting to annoy her, and her newest battle scars from the Windhelm dragon attack were _itching_. One of the downsides of being Argonian, she supposed. Her growing scales were irritating her greatly, nearly as much as the prisoners. She made a mental note to kill one of them later, just for annoying her.

The Argonian was more confused than anything, though annoyance was quickly rising to the same level. "Why did he help me…? Maybe I just imagined it…?" She looked back up at the mirror, panic in her eyes. "_Am_ I going crazy?"

"You do know that talking to yourself in a mirror doesn't help the argument against it." She jumped, grabbing her blades before twisting in surprise. The little person in the shadows chuckled, revealing herself. With an uneasy sigh, Karoa sheathed her blades again. Damn vampires. Especially Babette, always sneaking up on her. Made her a worthy assassin, sure, but as a friend or confident? Well, she was a _bit_ shady, even if the Argonian could trust her with her life.

"Hello, Babette. Care to tell me why you were eavesdropping?" The vampire laughed, sitting herself on Karoa's bed and absently picking at her fingernails. She looked bored but amused at the same time, a feat that only Babette could truly perform.

"I just came back from completing a contract. I opened the Sanctuary door, heard you yelling and banging on… Well, you know how it goes. So anyway, who's this 'he'? That Argonian… ah, Scouts-Many-Marshes, was it – that rescued the poor Dragonborn from beneath the ice? I'll be honest, I was a bit surprised to hear that in town. Especially since the Dragonborn is Argonian and thus can breathe underwater." Karoa scowled.

Damn vampires.

"If you must know, yes, _him_. I tried to murder him a few moments before the dragon attacked, so the fact that he helped me was a bit… _odd._" Babette tittered, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face and smiling. "What's so funny, hm?"

The vampire looked surprised for a second before lifting an eyebrow. "Do you find yourself attractive, Karoa?"

"Excuse me?"

Babette sighed, rolling her eyes and leaning forward. "Look, I'm no expert on Argonian attractiveness, so I'm asking you. _Do you find yourself attractive_?"

Karoa considered, then shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't looked at myself in a while."

"…You were just looking at a mirror!"

"Ranting at a mirror," she corrected, lifting a clawed finger into the air, "is not the same thing as observing yourself in one."

Again the vampire rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Well, fine, whatever. I know that Veezara had his eyes on you before… you know…" She made a vague motion at the room, eyes wide. Karoa understood completely. The move to Dawnstar Sanctuary, corpses of their friends in tow, had not been an easy one. "Do you think Scouts-Many-Marshes finds you, I don't know, _attractive_? _Pretty?_ That you have shiny scales, nice horns, what? I'm not very versed, as I said earlier, in Argonian beauty."

It was Karoa's turn to raise a brow, eyes twitching, unblinking. "If he does, he's stupid. I tried to _kill_ him, after all."

"Oh, love blossoms in strange ways. I should know… Before I was a vampire, I fell in love with a dashing young man!"

Karoa banged her head against the mirror. "By Sithis, you were what, ten? Did he give you a piece of a sweet roll or something?"

The vampire glared at her friend, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. "Are you making fun of me? Okay, _yes_, he shared a piece of his sweet roll, but that wasn't all! He gave me pretty things that he found in the streets, promised to love me for all eternity… Oh, there will never be a man as good as him! In fact-"

"Look, Babette, I'm sure this is thrilling, but I have to go. Official, er, Dragonborn business. Have to go talk to the Greybeards about that dragon attack in Windhelm… yeah. So, see you later?" As she left the Sanctuary she could still hear the vampire rattling off all the things that her lost lover gave to her. A pang shot through her heart; the unchild had lost a lot and gained little, especially recently. Sometimes she wondered if Babette was truly happy, being immortal.

Still, she had another immortal being to go to for guidance.

**T H E E L D E R S C R O L L S**

"Ah, _dovahkiin_, Dragonborn. You have returned to my _strumnah_, my mountain. Do you wish to meditate on a _shul_, word of power?" Though usually annoying, Paarthurnax's tendency to speak the tongue of dragons then her own was somewhat _comforting_. Familiar. Safe. She wasn't distraught by thoughts of Scouts-Many-Marshes, or the fact that Alduin could, at any time, rain fireballs down upon them. Instead she was completely engulfed by thoughts of the dragon in front of her and – were those corpses?

"Hey, Paarth?" The dragon snorted at the nickname, but answered anyway, tilting his head curiously. "What… happened? Did someone attack you?"

He sighed, stretching himself out – she could hear his spine creaking in protest – and taking to the air, landing dramatically in front of him. "Some ancient _hokoron _– enemies – of _dov _attacked me earlier. They had no _morah_, no focus, and thus were rewarded with _dinok_ – death. Something I'm sure you'd find fitting, as you are _kinbok_ – leader – of the Dark Brotherhood, are you not?"

"I dunno, maybe…? Paarth, who did this? Who discovered where you were at? And please, we can spare the crash course in dragon tongue for this." He leaned forward, hot breath enveloping her, causing her to calm. If he truly wanted, he could have snapped her up in a single bite. The thought didn't occur to her until it was too late, however.

"_Prem_ – patience – _dovahkiin_. They belonged to those that call themselves the Blades. They were rather proud of that fact, actually. _Kah fent kos unslaad _– pride shall be eternal. Even when faced with death, it seems. That one," he motioned with his wing at an elf with a sword in her chest – "took her own _laas_ – life – shouting that the Blades would gain their _nahkriin_ – their vengeance."

"Aren't you worried about them…? Next time they might send a bigger force or-"

He shook his head, lifting himself into the air before landing back on his wall. "_Nid, dovahkiin_. Your worries, they are unfounded. The Greybeards know what has transpired, and as such will not let their guard down again. And if the Blades manage to get through them, so be it. This old _dovah_ has fight left in his veins."

Karoa looked at the corpses miserably. "So I can see. But maybe Delphine will listen to reason for once; I can try to talk her out of killing you!"

"_Dreh ni kos aan mey! _Do not be a fool, _dovahkiin_! The Blades would kill you for siding with me! Go about your business, Dragonborn, and do not let my wellbeing hinder you!" There was fire in the old eyes, usually so docile and kind. The Argonian shriveled back, almost afraid. She could take on dragons, but _Paarthurnax_? She was not sure that she was mentally ready to kill the old dragon.

He sighed again, backing down. "My issues are my own, _dovahkiin_. There is no need to worry. Anyway, you came to me for a reason. Come, speak." He settled himself down, resting his wings against the ground. It looked like an awkward position to Karoa, but he seemed comfortable enough, so she sat down too, curling her tail around her crossed legs.

"What is love, Paarthurnax? I mean, I know what it is, but Babette said it and I shouldn't be feeling it cause I'm the Dragonborn and I just met this guy and-" She stopped as the dragon lifted his wing, eyes glowing with concern.

"Ah, _love_. A foreign concept to the _dov_, but one familiar to _joor_, mortals. I cannot tell you much for it, _dovahkiin_. Did the _ni-kiir_, not-child, not answer your questions? Surely she would know more about it than I, _fahdon_ – friend. Be cautious in your approach, and do not run at it with your _zun_ – weapon – drawn." He nodded sagely, as though this answer helped her in any way.

It didn't.

She sighed. "Thanks, Paarth. I was more asking you how I could tell if I was – I only met him a few days ago and he's never left my thoughts! Sithis take him! No… I don't mean that. He saved my life. I'm probably just hung up on that." Karoa smiled slightly, looking up at the expectant dragon.

"Next time I come to visit you, I'll bring the Elder Scroll. No more – well, okay, probably a _few_ – distractions, just Dragonborn business. Maybe. Though I really don't like the idea of the world relying on me. It's… too much responsibility."

Paarthurnax bowed his head, watching her with an amused expression. "Might I suggest stopping by Falkreath first? An ancient _aar _– servant – of Daedra will assist you there. He's been cast aside by his _in _– his master – and is being held prisoner by the blacksmith Lod. Just ask for someone named _Barbas_…"

**A/N: Don't worry, Karoa's not really falling in love yet – that would be really fast =P**

**Anyway, I apologize for the horrible-ness of the Babette part of this chapter. I usually write chapters in one sitting, but she turned out to be a lot harder to write than I imagined _ It took about four sittings to write that little bit =P **

**Hopefully Paarthy seemed in character enough, too. I tried to pepper his speech with the dragon language like he does in the game. It's annoying, but it's kind of cool, too. All the dragon words come from the wiki, so I'm not too sure if they're all accurate or not D8**

**Reviews are loved as always 3 Review and free a Barbas?**


	3. Chapter 3

Approaching Falkreath was a bit of a struggle to Karoa. A few passerby travelers muttered as she passed by on her horse, whispering the saying that she had become so famous for – _Death arrives on a brown horse_. Her friend – it was what she called her brown mare, what position was she in to give the creature a name? – was quite used to being stared at, head up and eyes bright with eagerness. Sure, she wasn't the one doing the actual killing, but Karoa decided that the mare was proud to carry the Listener. The little Whiterun-born horse had beat out the elusive, immortal _Shadowmere_ in choice of mounts, after all!

It was a bit awkward, though, returning to the town. She had not parted on good terms with the jarl – killing the housecarl would probably do that to a relationship – and shooting his advisor in the side with an arrow did not make her any more popular. She hoped that no one would recognize her face, even if someone recognized the horse. All of the Whiterun horses looked similar, she could just use that as an excuse. She had even changed out of her normal Dark Brotherhood ensemble into generic light armor. It was hard to avoid suspicion though, especially since the murderer of the housecarl was known to be an Argonian on a brown horse.

The guards made no move to arrest or stop her, though, as she parked the mare in front of the blacksmith and approached Lod. The man was busy at work on his grindstone, a shaggy dog bound to him by a leather rope. The thing barked at her, wagging his tail happily and bounding up and down. The Argonian ignored it, deemed it crazy, and shoved it to the back of her mind. Seeing that it was being ignored, the dog snorted, landing next to his master's feet with a loud thud.

"You're Lod, correct?" The Nord glanced at her from his stone, then nodded.

"Yeah, what's it to you? Looking to buy somethin'?"

She smiled, leaning in closer to the blacksmith before whispering in his ear. With the Daedra, it paid to take many, many precautions. "I'm looking for Barbas, the servant of one of the Daedric Princes. I heard that you had him with you…?"

The dog began to bark wildly, wagging his rump and trying desperately to fight against his leash. Again they ignored him, and he began to howl and whine. It took Lod a second to react, pondering the words before jumping. "You dare accuse me of such things? Why would I have any business with the Daedra? Get out of my sight, and stop listenin' to such stupid rumors!"

He seemed truthful, definitely not shifty in any way that she could measure. Still, it would be worth a good search of the house. Paarthurnax was never wrong. At least, not in matters such as these. With a glance back at the blacksmith, who was muttering to himself about the 'stupid rumors the guards made' and working at his grindstone, she slipped to the front of the house and crouched down, glancing around to make sure no one could see her. Of course, her horse could, but she would also warn her if there was anyone approaching. The mare had learned the way of things that came with being the steed of an assassin.

Taking out a lock pick she gently placed it in the door, jiggling it until the lock gave a satisfying _click_. She stepped back, gave herself a moment to appear like any other newcomer to the town, then slipped into the house. It was a wreck inside, books and other objects strewn across the floor. She crinkled her nose at the smell of apparently bad cheese, but continued in. Karoa wasn't sure where one would hide a Daedric servant, though. The one in Solitude, under the Prince of Madness, had been free to roam about. Would Lod be the kind of person to keep someone trapped under the house?

As she approached the counter looking for some sort of trap door, she felt a twinge similar to the one she had felt around the altar in Markarth. Reaching underneath the counter, she pulled out a small lock box. It had an easier lock to pick than the front door, and she opened it with ease. Inside was a sickly green collar, looking as though it was smoking. Puzzled, she picked it up then immediately dropped it as it zapped her. With a little moan of pain she bent down to pick it up, then froze as she felt someone try to break into her thoughts.

"'_Ey, can ya hear me now? If ya talk out loud I ain' gonna hear ya, so come on back outside. This time I'll point myself out for ya. Ain't that bright are ya, Argonian? Oh, by the way, in case ya haven't figured it out yet, the name's Barbas. Nice ta meet'cha." _

Okay, fine, weirder things had happened to Karoa, but the intrusion into her thoughts was an invasion of privacy. She wasn't sure what this '_Barbas' _ could see and what he couldn't, and she build up mental wards just in case he decided to try and pry into things that he shouldn't pry into. Stuffing the collar back into the box, she shoved it back under the counter and returned outside, carefully locking the door behind her.

As she approached Lod the dog began to bark again, wilder this time. Even the blacksmith finally took notice, kicking back with his right leg in order to shut it up. "Oh, just be quiet! You're gonna wake the whole damn country!" The dog barked once, sharply, looking straight up at Karoa. Her blood ran cold.

"Are you…?"

"_Th' name's Barbas! Nice ta meet'cha in th' flesh this time, Argonian! Or should I say __**Dragonborn**__? How'd ya know I was here?" _

"…You're a dog…"

Lod looked at her like she was crazy. "_I don't see what's so much weirder 'bout a talkin' dog than walkin' cats or lizards. Have ya looked into a mirror lately, lady?" _The dog barked again, happily wagging his tail. The Argonian awkwardly turned towards the blacksmith, coughing uneasily.

"Um, would you be willing to sell your dog? I have money…" Lod blinked, then shrugged.

"I'll part with him for a good five hundred septims. He's the finest dog you could ever buy!" Karoa scowled.

"Three hundred."

"Fine, fine! Damn, he's an annoyance! I'll take the three hundred, you take the dog. I never gave him a name, that's up to you." He untied the leash and shoved it over to Karoa, taking her money before returning to his work. "Oh, and if you figure out who's spreading those rumors of me having a Daedric servant, tell them that Lod's got his eye on them."

"_Only three hundred septims? Oh, I'm worth a lot more than that, lady! I'm immortal! I'm strong! I'm-"_

"If you don't shut up until we get out of here I'll skin you alive and send you back to your master with nothing." Barbas quieted after that, snorting indignantly. "Stay here, my friend. I'll be back to fetch you shortly." The mare seemed to almost nod, understanding twinkling in her eyes.

As they reached the outer reaches of Falkreath Karoa slumped down, inviting the dog to do the same. He was quite happy to oblige, stretching out his limbs in all directions. _"Thank ya, Dragonborn! Bein' with Lod, whew, that was tough work! Made me carry all his things fer him! Now tell me, how'd ya find out where I was?"_

"Paarthurnax, leader of the Greybeards, told me." The seemed to seize the dog up, and he rolled over quickly. He began to pace nervously, random mutterings flooding the Argonian's mind. She waited patiently, trying to gather and separate her own thoughts from his. Finally he calmed, sitting back down.

"_Look, I know I owe 'im a few favors, but they're gonna have ta wait! My master kicked me out, and we're both near powerless in these disgustin' mortal forms! No offense, 'course. Bein' mortal suits ya, just not me. Or my master. Or Paarthurnax. How's he lookin' these days, by the way? Need 'is scales shined or somethin'? Cause I could getta servant ta do that fer him!" _

At his insistent barks she shushed him as though he was an actual dog and not some sort of Daedric entity. He didn't seem to appreciate her treatment of him, sniffing unhappily. "Look, why does Paarthurnax get a favor from you?"

"_All water under the bridge now, ain' it? I just owe 'im somethin' from the las' time me 'n my master got in a fight. Did he send ya to redeem it? What'dya need me to do?"_

"He told me that you were to assist me on the rest of my journey to defeat Alduin." The dog's jaw looked as though it was about to fall off. His tail stopped wagging and he began to shake his head.

"_No. No no no no no no no no no-"_

"Come on, you owe him a favor!"

"_Yeah, but… Alduin? We're talkin' th' same Alduin, right? World Eater-Destroyer Alduin? Or maybe – and a dog can hope – some other Alduin, like that cow over there. Is his name Alduin? I can take 'im on! Otherwise, I ain' gonna be much help. Like I said, I'm weak without my master at my side. This far blows outta proportion what I owe ol' Paarthy." _

"But he said-!"

"_Look, kid, I like ya. I do, really. An' I get that you're a Dragonborn, rah rah rah. But you're nothin' but a kid wit' a fancy new toy – the Voice. Give it a few hundred years, an' we could talk about this again. Unless, of course, you'd be willin' ta take care of the rest to pay for such a favor? Sure, I owe Paarthy a big one, but this is certain death."_

Karoa sighed. Typical creature of Skyrim. Back in Black Marsh, while things weren't free, at least debts were paid off fairly. "Fine, what do you need me to do."

"_Now we're talkin'! Take me ta Haemar's Shame so we can visit my master! Maybe he could give me a piece a' his power, and then we could be in better shape! I doubt it, but hey, it's worth a go, right?"_

"Alright, fine. I'll take you to where ever you need to go. But first let me fetch my horse. This is going to be a long journey, I can feel it."

**A/N: HUZZAH! Two chapters in a day! Man, I'm on a roll! **

**Barbas became more fun than I thought he would be to write XD I apologize if I got out of control with his accent, cause I was having a lot of fun writing it =P**

**Reviews make Daedric dogs happy :D **


	4. Chapter 4

The fact that his boss had trusted him with a perfectly legal shipment had at first made no sense. And then he found out that it was going to Dawnstar. The place was completely overrun by dragons, who seemingly attacked nearly every day. Still, Scouts-Many-Marshes decided, it was nice to get out of Windhelm and get paid for doing it, so it was well worth it even if he died by dragon fire.

The two horses pulling his cart started to whine uncomfortably. "What's wrong?" They only snorted and sniffed, then screamed as small rocks started to fall from the hills overlooking the road. He cursed as the began to fight his control, one of the rearing and the other crying out.

And then a black horse bolted from the hills right in front of them, and in that flash he thought he saw red in its eyes. It was like the Shadowmere of legend, and it would make almost perfect sense, too.

Dawnstar was also apparently a hub of Dark Brotherhood activity.

The horses shrieked and all control and order was lost as they fled. He cursed, pulling the reigns and trying to slow them. It worked to a point, though they still weren't slow enough to completely control. He led them quickly to the right then shifted directions randomly, causing the horses to have to focus unless they wanted to crash into each other. It worked after a few tries, and they came to a nervous halt. He couldn't risk moving them again, not while they were panicking.

And then he saw the familiar shadowed Argonian on the hill beside him.

"And here I was thinking that the most dangerous things in Dawnstar were the dragon attacks!" The Argonian chuckled, bright eyes flickering. "Did you really have to startle the horses like that?" The offending horse trotted back over the hills and stood happily next to her mistress. In the clear light Scouts saw that he had been foolish – the horse did not have red eyes but normal brown.

Karoa rose to her feet, leaping gracefully down the rocks and rolling in front of the cart. The horses let out more panicked whines at her approach. "Easy now, girls. Just calm down." Her voice was slow, soft, and soothing. They calmed almost instantly, and within a minute they were happily brushing their noses against her gloved palms. She turned to Scouts and smirked. "No real harm done, is there? They seem fine to me. A little tired, but fine otherwise." She gently pushed the horse's nose away before nodding at the stunned male.

"So you're an assassin that's also an animal person?" He couldn't hide his skepticism. And she could tell, too, letting out a pained laugh. As she craned her neck to get a look at the horses, Scouts noticed scars along her neck, adding to the three that were swiped on her eye. Unlike those, the neck scars seemed someone new, though not completely fresh. "What happened to your neck? Look like you were bitten or something."

She was quick to snap her hood over the injuries, orange eyes staring directly at him. "Not that it matters, but I had a brief run-in with some vampires. The situation's been handled, of course." She waved it off as though it were nothing. Though even the thought of the night creatures startled Scouts, he couldn't help but admire her bravery that was almost stupidity. Then again, she fought dragons on a regular basis. A couple of vampires were probably nothing to her.

His curiosity still got the better of him, and she could see it in his face. With a chuckle she addressed his unspoken question. "While I can't go into specifics, I can safely say never do what a talking dog wants you to do. Ever." She offered no more on the subject, gently patting the two horses before leaping back towards the rocks.

"Well, okay, fine. You still haven't told me why you stopped the cart in the first place. How did you know that I was even going to be in it, or that we'd be traveling along this route?" She sighed, leaning against her own horse while gently tugging its mane. Perhaps she really _was_ an animal lover. Maybe it wasn't an act. The horse definitely didn't seem to mind the Argonian's fingers running through her mane, even seeming to enjoy it. The horses of Windhelm would have kicked a man for even attempting to groom their manes without proper equipment.

"Let's just say that I have _contacts_ in your general area. I'm always interested in what my own kind is up to, you know? Been so long since I've been to Black Marsh…" She sighed wistfully, her fingers moving from the horse's mane down towards her hoof. It was remarkably well kept, Scouts decided, for the horse of an assassin. "Well, anyway, I stopped you to ask you a few questions, since no one else can apparently answer them."

He stared stupidly at her. She had endangered his life to ask him a few _questions_? She couldn't have waited until he arrived in Dawnstar to kidnap him or something? The Argonian glanced at the contented horses next to him, and decided that Karoa's plan, whatever it was, had gone off without a hitch. It was like she was _perfect_ at everything she did. It unnerved him, slightly. A woman who was unwilling to show her weaknesses. Then again, it was probably an offshoot of living so long with Shahvee, an Argonian so happy and open with her strengths and weaknesses that it almost killed the Assemblage.

Of course, everyone had a weakness. Even Karoa-of-Black-Marsh. She was just smart enough to keep it hidden. A perfect guise for an assassin that wanted to spread fear throughout Skyrim. "What are the questions? I'll answer them as best I can if you allow me to go free afterward."

She waved a hand at the perfectly intact cart. "I don't think I ever captured you, your goods, or your horses. Technically, you could have left at any time. You just seem to be so delighted by my company that you decided to stay, I should hope." He just stared at her again, causing her to sigh. "You are absolutely no fun at all. You don't get scared, you don't charge at me… what would you do if I was holding a knife to you neck right now? You don't have the advantage of the ice and blinding snow here in Dawnstar."

"Is that one of your questions?" Karoa grinned.

"There you go, that's the fire I like to see! A sharp tongue to match an equal! Anyway, no, that wasn't one of my questions. My first is about your origins. Where were you born? How old are you? So on, so forth."

He puzzled over this, watching her suspiciously. Still, it fit to answer truthfully. He was pretty sure her contact in Windhelm could tell her everything about him at the drop of a pin. "I was born in Windhelm, actually. I've never lived in Black Marsh, will probably not live to see it. I'm twenty and six years, as of this past season. And you?" She seemed surprised by the return question.

"Oh, um… I was born in Black Marsh. Was travelling and brought her as a prisoner for doing nothing… er… I'm twenty and five, almost six as of this month." He hid his smile. The female had rehearsed every step of this, he was sure. Now she seemed flustered by the fact that he had asked a question back.

So for every question she asked about Skyrim, he asked her about Black Marsh. For every question she asked about his family and friends, he asked about her own. By the end she was getting frustrated, on the brink of snapping. He smiled. "You like perfection, don't you?"

The previous questions he had asked had been related to her questions, and this new one took her a second to register. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Not obsessively. I noticed it back in Windhelm. When the dragon came, you panicked and everything fell into chaos."

She stared back at him. "Dragons tend to do that, Scouts-Many-Marshes."

He rolled his eyes. "You've fought tons of dragons before, I'm sure. Believe me, I wasn't the only one in Windhelm stumped by the fact that you made such a messy job of the kill. We had heard that you were almost mechanical in your approach, neat enough to quickly blind the thing before killing it. If it hadn't fallen into the ice by complete accident, I don't think many of us would still be alive. And then you almost drowned, despite the fact that you're an Argonian."

"I-It was cold water. The water in Black Marsh is-"

"You've been in Skyrim for at least a year, haven't you? Since Helgen? Considering what you're wearing, you've become used to the weather. And we can swim perfectly fine in the cold. You just froze up mentally."

She stared blankly at him. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a delivery to make. So if you'll excuse me." Karoa merely watched as he mounted the cart and straightened the horses, which seemed almost reluctant to leave their newfound friend. As he started to pull away, she stood up.

"One last question, please. The most important one." He stopped and turned back, waiting. "Why did you save me after I tried to kill you?"

He shrugged. "You were still my egg-sister. And you had just saved Windhelm from a dragon attack. Leaving you to drown would be just despicable, really. You didn't murder my family at the Assemblage, and that was good enough for me."

Scouts sighed. "You know, if you come without weapons, I'll be in Dawnstar for a few days while this shipment is finalized. If you have more questions, talk to me there."

She said nothing, only flicking her tail to show that she had heard before she bounded over the hill towards Dawnstar.

**A/N: Look, I haven't quit this story yet! :D**

**Anyway, this chapter was originally going to be Haemar's Shame, but the entire event was so boring until the end to write that I just scrapped it. Don't worry, Barbas is still there, and he'll make an appearance next chapter!**

**Reviews are loved as always 3**


	5. Chapter 5

She wasn't expecting the sight that greeted her upon her return to the Sanctuary. In fact, if anyone had mentioned the possibility of Babette rolling around on the floor with a dog to her, she would have laughed it off before happily stabbing them in the throat. But then again, the days were changing. Nazir entered shortly after her, and stared at the scene in front of them. "What's going on…?"

Karoa shrugged. "If I had any idea, I'd tell you, but…" Their whispers caught the vampire's attention as she roughly shoved Barbas off and recomposed herself, brushing dirt out of her hair. The dog whined in protest, glaring reproachfully at the Dragonborn.

"_Ya know, it wouldn't kill ya to le' me get played with every once in a while. Neither you nor master give me th' attention I deserve!" _ He sniffed disdainfully before wagging his tail at Babette again, hoping that she would romp with him again. The girl rejected his approaches, only absently patting him on the head.

"What's the news, Nazir? We barely see you around here anymore. And where's that recruit of yours?" Karoa had to admit that the vampire had a certain way of making all past matters stay in the past. The almost whimsical mood of two seconds ago completely evaporated into one of pure business. Nazir coughed awkwardly before snapping his fingers. Two of the recruits slipped out from the shadows, each carrying an armful of papers.

The Argonian stepped forward, took the top paper from the female recruit's arms – she had tried to bow but failed, only succeeding in dropping a few of her load – and glancing over it. "Nazir, the recruits aren't here to do your paperwork. Or carry it. Besides, why didn't we get this contract… two months ago, it says it was issued?" She flicked it towards the Redguard, gazing expectantly at him. If he was miffed by her comment he didn't show it, only motioning towards the male recruit.

"Come over here, hand the Listener a paper – atta boy, you're getting it! Anyway, Listener, we were out on a mission when we began hearing strange, well, _rumors_." At one point in time he had called Karoa by her name, but the recruits had protested that it wasn't respectful. It bothered her that the recruits had so much power over her family member, but in private the two still spoke like friends. He cleared his throat before continuing. "They say that the Dark Brotherhood has been extremely active in Windhelm lately. Three women have been murdered, their corpses left scattered throughout the city."

Ignoring Barbas's amusement at Nazir's treatment of the recruit, Karoa frowned. "That's impossible! No one's been taking contracts in Windhelm since I killed the beggar. Unless… Babette?" The vampire shrugged helplessly.

"Please, Listener, give me some credit. You should know that I can't get to Windhelm without bursting into flames – a fate I've avoided for three hundred years, thank you very much – and I wouldn't go without telling you, anyway." She patted the dog's head again, this time acknowledging his presence with a rare genuine smile. Barbas wagged his tail.

"Well, that's the problem; there _have_ been no contracts from Windhelm since the beggar's death. We found the notes that she's carrying – come closer, sweetheart – pinned to doorways around the city. Some were asking for a certain person to be killed. Others were thanking the Brotherhood for killing the three women. It goes on, and not a Black Sacrament to be had, right?"

The Argonian glanced towards the Mother's casket, still open and inviting her to speak. "None that I'm aware of. The Night Mother has been _quiet_ as of late. I thought it was just a bit of good luck that there wasn't much work to do, but now it's clear." She looked at the stack of notes in the female's hands. "That many people were stupid enough to pin the names of people they needed killed to their _doorways_? Did they really think that we'd kill anyone without payment? And where were the guards arresting all these lunatics, anyway?"

"_Per'aps th' guards gotta few folks on their hit lists, eh? If I were you - and thank goodness I ain'! – I'd sort through those notes an' look for your lizard friends. Pretty sure you all aren't anyone's fav'rites 'round here!" _ The Argonian seemed to visibly pale. Quickly she looked up at the recruit.

"Yes, my Listener? What would you have me do?" She looked eager for blood, for dancing around on someone's bones with a satchel of gold.

"This isn't going to seem very exciting, and I apologize for it, but I need you to go through all of those notes for me. They have the location as well as the name, correct?" The recruit nodded. "Excellent. If there are any that mention any Argonian that lives by the docks – probably in the Argonian Assemblage – I want you to let me know _immediately_. Got that?" She looked uncertain. "Would you disobey your Listener?"

"I, no, of course not, Listener. It will be done, Listener. As you command." She left immediately to the table, dumping the notes onto it before sorting. Nazir watched Karoa with interest, while Babette had a knowing smirk on her face.

She didn't give them the satisfaction of teasing her, wrenching Barbas towards Babette and stomping towards the door. "I'll be at the inn if you need me. Tell one of the recruits to send me any news as soon as they get it."

"Date with mister Scouts-Many-Marshes?" The vampire's mocking was clear, and Nazir whistled teasingly. Obviously Babette had been unable to keep her mouth shut. Karoa only glared at both of them as she left the sanctuary.

Once outside she quickly changed into something less suspicious than obvious Dark Brotherhood leathers. It was the same clothes that she had worn to the party Delphine had forced her to infiltrate for the Blades and their dragon-hating ways.

As she reattached her horn decorations – simple jingling baubles attached to a silver brace – she looked casually up at the sky. No dragons today, a good omen. Perhaps her talk with Scouts-Many-Marshes would not go as badly as she was expecting.

**A/N: Short chapter, I apologize D8**

**Anyway, aside from obvious spoilers for the Dark Brotherhood quest – you've already been spoiled if you've read so far =P There will be spoilers for the Blood on the Ice quest line, though it's going to be altered, obviously. So yeah, you've been warned! **

**This warning was one of the reasons why I cut the chapter short – next chapter some serious stuff is gonna hit the fan.**

**Reviews keep Barbas from complaining :D**

**Aaaand, everyone should check out my other Skyrim story, **_**A Thief in the Night**_**. Alright, I'll stop the self-plugging =P**


	6. Chapter 6

He wasn't sure why he was waiting for her in the Windpeak Inn, but some sort of instinct kept him patient. Thoring was watching him warily, scrubbing at the same area that he had been for the last two hours. Scouts had no doubt that he was waiting for him to leave so that others of the small town would be less hesitant to come in. The Argonian doubted that much other than a dragon could keep desperate drinkers from their ale, and he was proven right come the next hour, when three wary Nords came in, taking a drink. They muttered angrily about how the Imperials were encouraging the _beasts_ into Skyrim.

It made Scouts' skin crawl with disgust. He wasn't even one to support the Imperials, but he was sorely tempted to after everything he and his people went through in Windhelm. Despite the disgusted glares he waited. After about half an hour he grew annoyed with the stares and was about to take his leave when a young Argonian woman took a seat next to him. She was darker skinned but heavily marked, red war paint meeting natural markings. Her brow was horned and scaled gray-brown, the same as her forehead. Two horns curved from the back of her head, their tip stopping right above her orange eyes. Attached to them were dangling silvers which rang out whenever she shifted her head.

She was, without a doubt, lovely. It couldn't be the Dark Brotherhood assassin, not at all. It wasn't possible that a creature that beautiful could ever fall in line with hired killers. Perhaps it was a stranger, wandering into town at a rather inconvenient time. The female eventually noticed his staring and glared right back at him, though there was an amused glint in her eyes. "Like what you see? If not, well, I'd high tail it before I get my claws on you."

Thoring seemed to straighten up as the Argonian spoke, and he awkwardly shifted around. "Shall I get rid of him for you, my thane?" _Thane?_ Karoa – for who else could it be but her? – shook her head, chuckling.

"No, no, Thoring, that'll be fine. Though if you could fetch us some of your finest Black-Briar mead, well, I'd appreciate it. Two bottles, if you'd please!" The innkeeper nodded, quickly retreating to his cellar. Karoa turned back to Scouts, grinning. "As I said, you could stop staring. It isn't very polite."

He snapped out of it, looking away dazedly. "How much will the mead cost? I'll… I'll pay for it." He groped for his pockets quickly, hoping that he had enough money to even cover the expensive drinks. She looked at him quizzically as Thoring returned. Shifting her fingers through her dress, she fished out the required septims and tossed them onto the counter. The Nord counted them greedily before nodding.

Karoa held out a bottle to Scouts, taking the other for herself. "Here. Looks like you could use a _good _drink." He took it numbly, angry at himself for failing to be able to pay for her. It was an odd state of affairs – one could technically say that she owed him at least a mead for attempting to kill him and throwing his horses into a panic – yet without the Dark Brotherhood leathers on she looked, well, _normal_. Pretty, even. He hung onto that point to the death, he knew, but it was just sheer _disbelief._ How could she, with such a bright future that could have been ahead of her, joined the Dark Brotherhood? In any universe that was right, she could have been a successful young Argonian, he could have found work in any other place than Windhelm, and he might have, well, had a chance at her.

And Ulfric would slowly die under the weight of his own ego and Scouts would have enough money to see Black Marsh for himself.

It would never happen anyway, even if she wasn't Brotherhood. She was snappy and seemed to be easily annoyed and frustrated. Not that he blamed her for feeling that way; he had his own anger issues with his boss, but for a potential mate? He doubted that she had any patience in the world for that type of thing. Plus, of course, she _was_ Brotherhood. Didn't they have some sort of bias against marriage…? He felt himself heating up. Marriage! Why, he had just seen the woman in different clothing and all of a sudden, just because she was pretty, he felt the need to enter any sort of relationship with her?

"I could have paid, really. It wouldn't be much trouble, I'd-" Karoa held up her hand, shrugging.

"I know of the wages you make – or rather, don't – and I don't feel it fair to do that to you. I have plenty of money, Scouts-Many-Marshes. You may trust me on that." _From murdering people, no doubt._

The two drank in silence for a few moments before Karoa grasped him by the wrist. "Thoring, a room, please!" The barkeep looked just as baffled as Scouts before screwing his face in disgust!

"Sure you're that drunk, my thane? Whatever, just don't make too big of a mess, got it?" He grumbled about how filthy the beast-men were as he took her gold and tossed her the key. She literally dragged Scouts along with her, earning many stares from curious customers. The Argonian hadn't been aware how many had come in since Karoa's arrival. Unlike the first three Nords, these ones seemed to not mind their presence, even saluting Karoa before moving out of the way.

She locked the door behind them, sitting on the bed as he stood there awkwardly; still unsure of what in Oblivion was going on. Karoa sighed, dragging him again to the bed. "Now we can talk without bother." He felt his lungs at last release air he hadn't known he was keeping.

"Oh, I thought, uh-"

Karoa glanced at him slyly. "I know what you and everyone else in that room was thinking, Scouts. Trust me when I say it isn't that easy to get me hammered. Or to get me into bed with an almost-stranger. Though I bet you were hoping I was that _easy_, weren't you?" She winked, baring her teeth in a grin as he heated again.

He decided that now more than ever was time for a subject change. "They called you 'thane'."

"So they did. S'not that impressive, really, to be the thane of a small town like Dawnstar. Helps when you get caught at night returning to missions, though. Still not as impressive as my Whiterun title." She seemed awfully proud of the fact that she was the thane of the large trading center. Scouts couldn't say he blamed her, and even felt a little jealous at the fact that an assassin could be so successful. There he was, working his entire life to scrape up enough to get by, and she was allowed to run around murdering people in cold blood yet still be thane _and_ dragonborn. She wasn't even born in Skyrim!

The female seemed to sense his frustrations, softening a bit and placing her hand on his. "Hey, now, it'll be okay. There are tough times on all of us, now. You know what, we I head back to Windhelm, I'll talk to whoever's in charge of paying you. I don't have much influence in that city, and I'm pretty sure Jarl Ulfric hates me, but I'll try to help, okay?"

The sincerity of the statement threw Scouts for a loop. She actually seemed genuinely interested in helping the Assemblage with their collective plight. But pride, one of the few things he had left, overcame him. "We'll be fine. We don't need the Brotherhood's help."

"Ohh, that's actually a good idea. Wasn't planning on asking my Family to help me out here… but I bet that they'd be more than willing to stick a guy at knife point for me. I bet that would get him to pay even more than if I just took my whole 'I'm-the-Dragonborn' approach. You know what I mean?"

By Oblivion, she was actually thinking of holding _Torbjorn Shatter-Shield_ up with a knife. "Look, just don't interfere at all, okay? Seriously, we'll be fine. I mean-"

Sharp knocks interrupted his sentence, and Karoa shrugged, rising to get to the door. "We're busy in here, come back later!"

"_Innocence, my brother._" Scouts could barely hear the whisper, but they had an effect on Karoa. She tensed, unlocked the door, and threw it open. A young-ish Nord woman was standing before her, entering the room before quietly closing it behind her. She had the hardened eyes of someone who got into a lot of fights, and by the hostile way she was staring at him Scouts assumed she was one of Karoa's 'Family'.

"This had better be important." The Argonian looked annoyed, crossing her arms. The woman looked away from Scouts, staring instead at Karoa's feet.

"My Listener… is one of the Argonians you spoke of named Shahvee?" Scouts snapped up at the sound of his friend's name, looking between the two.

"What's going on? What's wrong with Shahvee?"

They both ignored him, and the woman continued. "There are multiple notes asking for her death… I fear that she might be one of the next ones on the Imposter's list. If you want to save her, well, you'd best hurry up, my Listener."

Karoa nodded. "Thank you , Initiate. You are dismissed." Silently the woman departed, slipping out the door without a trace that she had ever been there. The female looked distressed suddenly, and Scouts couldn't help but feel that something bad was going to happen to his friend.

"What's wrong with Shahvee, Karoa?"

She looked at him with dead, emotionless eyes. "Well, to be put bluntly… She's on a list to be killed." She waited a moment for the news to register, then gave him another second so he could get over the shock. "Someone – we don't know _who_ yet – is pretending to be taking Dark Brotherhood contracts and killing whoever is the most requested. Now, I don't know why anyone would fall for it – seriously, has the Black Sacrament become such a _taboo_ that people believe we'd take notes taped on a door over it? So far it's been all women that have been killed, mostly of non-Nordic race or origin. So basically, yes, Windhelm is full of racist good-for-nothing Nords. But we knew that already, didn't we?" She gave a tense grin.

"We have to save her, then. I can't just – the horses, it'll take too long and –" She silenced him with a nod.

"Look, I'm going to go grab my uniform and my horse. Meet me by the entrance of Dawnstar and we'll be off. Trust me."

**S K Y R I M**

As the minutes ticked by Scouts grew anxious. How long did it take a girl to get dressed? It would take far too long on the horses to reach Windhelm in time to save Shahvee, he was sure. Then he saw her, and his eyes widened. For not only was she riding a different horse than earlier, she had the same one with her.

As they grew closer, Scouts could see that the horse she was riding had bright red glowing eyes, and looked rather frustrated by the entire situation. "Sorry it took so long. I had to, ah, make a deal with Shadowmere here. She wasn't too happy that I hadn't ridden her in a while." She handed over her other horse's reins to him, shrugging. Once the mare had looked so strong and large compared to his own carriage horses. She was absolutely dwarfed in both height and girth by Shadowmere.

"Don't worry. My friend is a good mare; she won't let you fall but will carry you swifter than the wind or any other horse." Shadowmere snorted. "Except for you of course, my beloved Shadowmere." Karoa awkwardly patted the ethereal horse's neck, and it only seemed to annoy her further. He ignored the agitated horse – who was he to understand the strange ways of the Brotherhood? – and mounted the Whiterun mare, taking her in circles before rejoining Karoa. She smiled grimly at him before moving Shadowmere at a trot.

They had to make it back to Windhelm in time. As Karoa had her own Family, Shahvee was part of Scouts's.

**A/N: Woah guys it's been a while _; but I doubled the length of the last chapter with this one, so I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Not much to say. Please review if you can :3**


	7. Author's Note

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for not updating =c**

**I have exams coming up so I've been basically internet free for two months now... this will continue until at least June. **

**Sorry!**


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